Mya
I woke startled, grasping the barely familiar sheets in my fingers as I tried to regulate my breathing.
It was just a dream, I silently whispered.
Just a messed up, distorted version of things. It wasn’t real.
“It’s not real,” my shaky words pierced the silence.
When I’d first moved to Rixon from Philadelphia, the nightmares had been every other night. My aunt wanted me to see a therapist, but I wasn’t about to sit in front of some shrink and let them dissect my dreams. I knew what haunted me in my sleep. I didn’t need to give it a name or reason or excuse.
Sometimes people experienced bad things and it left marks. Scars invisible from the outside but so real on the inside that you never forgot. You just learned how to deal. How to get up each day, paste on a smile, and survive.
Surviving in a place like Rixon might not have been a matter of life or death, but it still had its moments.
I finally pushed back the cover and climbed out of bed, trying to tame the dark, unruly spiral curls out of my face. My bedroom in my aunt’s house was small but cozy. She’d never had children, but she had tried her best to make it homely for an eighteen-year-old girl who was more of a stranger than family. Lilac wasn’t my color, but I appreciated the effort.
My favorite thing about my new space was the small adjoining bathroom. Aunt Ciara’s room adjoined the master suite which meant we didn’t have to share. A luxury I hadn’t been afforded back in Philly.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I pulled on some clean clothes and made a second attempt at fixing my hair, eventually settling on dragging it into a ponytail. The girl in the mirror looked like me but she hadn’t felt like me in a really long time. I guess that’s what happened when you were forced from your home, your life, and shipped off to live in the ass crack of nowhere. If I hadn’t been paired with Felicity Giles on my first day at my new school, Rixon High, I didn’t doubt my existence here would be almost intolerable.
As it was though, I had become fast friends with Felicity and her best friend Hailee Raine. Those girls were something else; refusing to conform to the Rixon way of football and more football. I decided to overlook the minor detail that they were both dating football players now. And not just any football players; Rixon Raider royalty to be exact. The irony wasn’t lost on me, or them for that matter. But you couldn’t help who you fell for. I knew that better than anyone.
My cell phone vibrated and I grabbed it off the desk, reading Felicity’s text.
* * *
Flick: Running late... I stopped over at the Ford’s.
* * *
Rolling my eyes, I typed a quick reply.
Me: Say no more. I’ll see you in a few.
* * *
That was what I loved about Felicity. Despite being in a relationship with one of the broodiest, meanest, and downright arrogant guys I’d ever met, she hadn’t wavered in her friend-ability. Every morning, even if she was a little late sometimes, Felicity picked me up for school. And every morning, we talked about all the things girlfriends should talk about.
My cell vibrated again and I smiled, eager to see whatever zany reply Flick had cooked up. But when I ran my eyes over the screen, I froze.
* * *
J: I need you, Mya. Please...
* * *
I quickly deleted the message and shoved my cell in my jean pocket. Trying to ignore the way it burned a hole. If I texted him back, we’d go around and around in circles like we always did.
Jermaine might have needed me.
But it wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t enough.
I never would be.
So I did what I’d done every day since arriving h
ere. I grabbed my school bag, headed downstairs and waited for my ride.
Because sometimes pretending was better than facing the truth.
“Mya, come in,” Miss Hampstead, the school guidance counselor, smiled up at me from behind her desk. “How are you?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“You guess?”